


The Problem With Pickles

by Earth_Phoenix



Series: The Pickle Saga [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, Pickles - Freeform, cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 09:48:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11228460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Earth_Phoenix/pseuds/Earth_Phoenix
Summary: Harry has an craving, Rastaban may grow to like it.





	The Problem With Pickles

Rabastan leaned against the kitchen door frame clad only in boxers and hastily put on dressing gown, watching as Harry, barefoot and only wearing a loose pair of jeans, opened every single cupboard door, in what was turning out to be an epic quest, for what, only Harry knew. Harry let out a frustrated growl.

“Darling,” Rabastan called “The fuck are you doing?” It was 2am. Harry's very cute arse should be in bed.

“I'm hungry.” Harry pouted, looking tearful. Rabastan's heart melted, Harry was just too adorable.

Harry was currently seven months pregnant with their first child and his pregnancy cravings so far had been...interesting. Like pickle. Harry hated pickle, but right now Harry seemed to want in more and more disgusting ways: chopped pickle with chocolate ice cream and strawberry sauce; Pickle covered with creamed cheese sauce; sliced pickles and bananas with peanut butter and apple sauce – in the same bowl. “What would you like?” Knowing that if Harry couldn't find it in their very well stocked kitchen, it was probably because he wanted more pickles.

“Cranberry filled pickles.” Harry informed his husband, completely serious. He walked (waddled) over to Rabastan and fell into his husband's open arms. “

Are you -? Oh, Ok.” Rabastan had learned very quickly not to try and talk Harry out of eating this crap. Only two more months before Harry's taste buds returned he reminded himself. “Anything else?”

Harry thought for a moment “Marshmallows, oh and some lemon – and grapes. Red ones.” Since when did Harry want Lemons? Oh never mind.

“Alright, I'll just pop out and -” Harry's bottom lip began to wobble, a sure sign that he about to bust into tears. Rabastan squeezed Harry tightly, reassuring him “Or I could just send the one of the house elf's out.” Harry nodded against his chest.

“I hate it when you go out late like this.” Harry mumbled, trying to hold back a sob.

“Go out like what?” Rabastan was genuinely confused, he had popped out to buy Harry all sorts of things throughout the pregnancy – pregnant wizards being warned to not Apparate or use Portkeys (Floo's to be used under supervision.)

“Like the other night.” Harry poked him in the chest.

“Oh. _Oh_.” The memory came back to Rabastan with a smile.

Even though Harry had vouched for Rabastan and provided evidence that Rabastan, like Severus, had been providing the Order will valuable information, the public at large still didn't trust him and Rabastan still found himself occasionally having to dodge curses. Just before they had gone public with the pregnancy, Rabastan had once again felt the wrath of some halfwit who thought he should be rotting in Azkaban a highly emotional Harry had blasted the moron across the restaurant and into the building next to it, reminding everyone just why he was now considered one of the most powerful wizards alive, next to Dumbledore. Harry, naturally, had been upset with the amount of damaged caused (though Rabastan noted, not with blasting the idiot.) Rabastan sighed, knowing Harry wasn't about to let him out of his sight right now and simply clicked his fingers, summoning their house elf and quietly giving it the list of items Harry wanted. Rabastan easily lifted Harry into his arms and plonked his young husband onto the kitchen table and kissed him deeply, silencing any complaints.

“Want pickles.” Harry reminded Rabastan breathlessly once they broke apart. Rabastan sighed, it would take the Elf a while to fetch everything this late at night and the couldn't be completely out, could they?

Rabastan slipped his wand from his gown pocket, raised it and called "Accio pickles!” A jar flew into his hand from a cupboard Harry had yet to open and he wordlessly handed it over to his beloved, who hugged it tightly to his chest. Pregnancy: making the ones you love go crazy for no apparent reason.

“Thank you.” Harry smiled, opening up the jar and stuffing a pickle, whole, into his mouth.

“Don't mention it.” Rabastan pulled out a larger looking pickle and held it up. “Y'know, these would make great sex toys.” Harry hit in the arm.

“Everything is a sex toy for you.” Harry teased, trying not laugh at the intense look Rabastan was giving the pickle.

“Shall we try?” Rabastan suggested, dragging the pickle over one of Harry's nipples. Harry gasped at the sensation. His nipples were already over sensitive, the feeling of a pickle touching them made him squirm. Trust Rabastan to think of something like this.

“Maybe after the baby is born.” Harry gasped out as Rabastan dragged the pickle over the over nipple.

“Mmm...we could start work on baby number two.” Rabastan hummed in approval. "With _pickle_ sex." Harry let out a snort.  

“The next one _you_ are having.” Harry informed his husband fiercely. 

"As long as I get to fuck you with a pickle.” Rabastan shrugged. Honestly, it didn't matter to him which one of them carried the children, just being married to the man he loved and adored and even able to have children was more then he ever dared hope for. 

“Deal.” Harry nodded and the pair shook on it, before exploding into laughter.

“I think I can get to like your current pickle obsession.” Rabastan said thoughtfully, once he had gotten himself under control. Harry just cuddled into him further, a smile on his face. 

 

 


End file.
